


You, Me, and Your Moirail

by tBrilli4ntD4rkness



Category: Homestuck
Genre: And currently together in a spaceship for reasons not explained, Aradia is done with this, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Auspistice roll call: Aradia; Kanaya; Karkat; Jake, But AraSolFef and the Strilondes' quadrants are important too, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Caliginous-Flushed Vacillation, Eridan finally gets quadrants while in the middle of nowhere space, Eridan isn't completely bonkers, Everyone is still alive (atm), F/F, F/M, Focus is on JakEriSol, Human-troll concupiscent relationships are automatic vacillations here because humans, Injuries all around, Jake tries to be an auspistice, M/M, Mostly the Life players ironically, No Godtier but (mostly humans) have related powers, Out of Game AU, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Scourge Sisters and Jade have a time, There's a lot of background relationships of course, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tBrilli4ntD4rkness/pseuds/tBrilli4ntD4rkness
Summary: Your name is Sollux Captor and you would appreciate some gogdamn peace and quiet. Alone, without His Notorious Aggravation, or his ridiculous moirail.Your name is Dirk Strider. Somehow you have the incredible misfortune of being stranded with a group of the loudest, onriest refugees of Paradox Space. You're unable to send word edgewise or interdimensionally to your maybe-not-boyfriend, and the next person to set a prank trap in your tiny lifepod will find themselves outside of it.Your name is Rose Lalonde and you're quite certain you're the only thing keeping your brother sane at this point. That is, your ectobiological twin brother.Your name is Jane Crocker. You're currently stranded in a life vessel with a well-meaning idiot, a blooming rivalry, and a prohibitive knot on the back of your head.
Relationships: Dave Strider & Rose Lalonde, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Eridan Ampora & Jake English, Eridan Ampora/Sollux Captor, Jake English/Dirk Strider, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Roxy Lalonde & Feferi Peixes, Secondary Relationships:, See background ship listing, Sollux Captor & Aradia Megido, Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket
Comments: 5
Kudos: 10





	1. Act 1: Only Matesprits Get Each Other Killed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read [Yesfir's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesfir/pseuds/yesfir) [_First Contact_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15771036/chapters/36686778), I highly recommend that you do.  
> There's a delectable plot, eloquent RoseMary, suspenseful DaveKat, and the struggle to fit twenty mutual aliens on a ship meant for eight was one of the impulses to set this up how I did.  
> It was also the beginning of JakEri, though [SociopathicArchangel's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociopathicArchangel/pseuds/SociopathicArchangel) [_A Lullaby for Gods_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8868388/chapters/20331382) makes RoxEri work as well. Maybe the boy just needs a human moirail.
> 
> (Let's see how many people we can cram into a limited space, and record how long it takes them to lose all functionality, shall we?)

Space surrounds the pod, vast in its silent, freezing darkness. The pod itself has increasingly made these attributes its own as it speeds toward distant hope, and now the weak chilly air is illuminated only by blinking beacons of light, the muffling quiet broken only by soft, shuddering breaths and the faint hum of electronics.

A single figure sits hunched under the control panel, too weak to stand, gripping the com-line with both hands. Time in infinite and meaningless in the void of space.

"Is there anyone still out there? Haven't heard anything in days . . . at least I think it's been days. Rather hard to tell and all, since we had to shut the computer down." The being pauses to cough hoarsely, the sound echoing unnaturally slowly around the curved metal chamber. "The others have been out at least a day now, and oxygen's down to 17%. Guess I'll be joining them soon enough." The raspy, huffed laugh that follows is emotionless. "Last of the rations ran out last week. Whatever buggers came up with this blighted system must not eat very much. There's a little water left, at least. And enough power that I could turn on the gravity for a moment to send this, because it's an absolute terror to deal with the cursed microphone floating all about." There's another pause as the speaker gasps for breath far longer than functioning lungs should have to.

"I'll keep going with the updates as long as I can. JA2-CH33 out." The transmission ends but the speaker doesn't move other than to rest its head again the wall. After a period that might be seconds or hours, the being slides forward onto its knees and arduously climbs to its feet, straightening one limb at a time until both forearms rest on the control panel. The com-line is replaced in its anti-gravity holder, and with the flip of a switch the last of the static background noise retreats, both contact and gravity severed.

The former speaker continues to stand, waiting as its feet slowly raise up from the floor and its body drifts to the center of the cabin - neither up nor down in weightlessness. The only one left awake, a sentinel at the end of the space and time, and for all intensive purposes, its very species. Then in the absolute, suffocating void of sound, there's a roar. A waterfall of a guttural bellow of an indefinable anguish, a howl that echoes around and around the darkly gleaming walls without end. And finally, lost in a single infinite sound, the figure allows itself to sleep.

\- - -  
_Several weeks previous  
Transport starship_

The huntress was nearly silent as she stalked her prey, moving through air ducts with the ease of the Alternian meowbeast she is. Her eyes were well-adjusted to the dimness of the metal breathing tunnels, but with the voices filtering through the ducts she needed no other sense to find her target. She paused before an open grate, watching the room's oblivious occupants chatter away with backs turned to her as she eases forward, grate swinging up, letting her horns clear the metal before she leaps . . and lands with purrfection precision, claws around the throat of her prey--

"Nepeta!" Roxy exclaimed boisterously, spinning around to return the hug and nearly lifting the troll off her feet in the process. The oliveblood made a purring sound in her throat as only a troll can, nuzzling the human's arm with her blunt horns.

The other troll in the room grinned at the greeting, "Whale, this is an exciting surprise!"

Nepeta glanced between the two quickly and smiled knowingly at Feferi. "Is AC interrupurrting something?" Fuchsia rose in the flustered seadweller's face, and her eyes widened a little.

"Oh don't worry, Neps," Roxy reassured her with a laugh - much to Feferi's continued embarrassment if her pinkening ears are any indication - and then leaned forward to stage whisper, "Did ya find anything in my brother's room?"

Nepeta pouted, tail swinging in a subdued arc behind her. "He sealed up the airway! Whatever he doesn't want mew to find, it must be purrty serious!" She hadn't been able to hear anything through the thick metal plate, the scratched sheet reflecting her frustration back at her.

"You can't hide from ol' Roxy forever, Dirky boy," the human said with a contemplative frown.

A small glub-cough sound came from behind Nepeta. "Podron me, but it seems like another poi-nt of view wouldn't be unwhalecome." Her gray-pink eyes were a sort of thoughtful that most people - trolls and humans alike - forgot that she possessed. It was times like these that the heiress could almost be considered calculating, except that her typical bubbly personality didn't match with so menacing a word. Nepeta nearly shivered at the sight of those beautiful eyes, slowly filling with commanding fuchsia as she neared second pupation.

"'Course," Roxy lit up. "I'd tots appreciate it! Maybe we could start a whole underground movement even, get everyone on board. Although," the human eyed the trolls' expressions, "On second thought that could go downhill quick. Here, make yourself comfortable, Nepeta-- or is your moirail expecting you back?"

"Equius won't be that grumpy if I'm a little late. He has his own purrjects." Nepeta curled up on the couch back, tail flicking slightly. Most trolls assumed their moirallegiance made them attached at the hip, since they'd been together for so long, or that Equius was domineering. Most of the time she didn't mind, but sometimes it made her annoyed or angry that their relationship was misinterpreted. Just because they didn't display Terezi and Vriska's brand of playful bickering didn't signal a lack of in-jokes, or that either of them was a bad meowrail.

Feferi leaned back more comfortably as Roxy's hands picked up where they left off trying to make sense of the fuchsia's incredible supply of hair. Several different types of combs, brushes, ties, and other hair implements lay scattered on and by the couch, along with a full sprayer of water and even a miniature culling fork. Roxy's signature curling iron remained out of sight, not necessary for the troll heiress' tresses. Nepeta had only been in Roxy's "living" block long enough to walk through it, preferring to use the air ducts to access the storage block she shared with Equius. Roxy didn't have a great deal of knick-knacks or furniture, instead leaving most of the room open to spread out the latest project, which could be anything from blueprints to woodworking it seemed. Currently there were only a couple chairs occupying the space, though where Roxy had stuffed the table Nepeta hadn't been able to figure out yet.

"Dirk's been strange since before we humans agreed to take you and your friends on our ship. He's completely remodeled his space, so far's I can tell, with this attic and everything. Wouldn't let Jade make quick work of it either - he did the whole thing himself, making sure the ship was still intact." Roxy paused to frown, eliciting a soft _chirr_ ing sound from Feferi. "He's even started working with Hal for whatever he's doing, so I can only imagine we'll know it's done when Dirky kicks 'em out, maybe with my welding stick at his neck. They can hardly stand each other in the same room, so clearly what'evs going down is a big issue, ya know."

"That does sea-m strange. At least it explains why no one has sea-n the Auto Reefseaponder since we came on board. Did you climb all the way through the breathing passages to block?" Feferi asked Nepeta.

"Unfurtunately even my claws aren't enough to go between floors, at least without damaging the ship. I used Jade's block to access the third level tunnels - they're purrfect fur sneaking." Jade had, in fact, grinned up at the breathing tunnel as Nepeta went by, but Nepeta supposed it was only to be expected with the human's uncanny spatial intelligence and sense of smell. "She seemed to know what was happening, but not in a bad way, mew know." Two pairs of pink eyes rested on her, uncannily intense in their surprise.

"Jade would seartainly be able to get in," Feferi mused. In the scant week and a half since boarding - the first time all the humans and trolls had met each other together in person-, rumors of Jade's strange spatial powers had made circles around the ship. From her stunning accuracy as a co-navigator to the suite she'd renovated as a wedding gift for Kanaya and Rose (with plans for a certain other Strilonde's space, she'd hinted with a wink) to her own mysteriously large block, Jade was practically a legend in the flesh. She was also the first line of defense for miscellaneous mechanical issues, earning the nickname 'witch' from her male cousins for her ability to make functioning emergency teams out of stubborn aliens.

Nepeta relaxed further into the couch cushions as they all thought in comfortable quiet. It wasn't stressful, being with these two, as it might have been elsewhere. The occupants of this block were strange, even misfits, in their own right - characters often disregarded for others' instantaneous plans and lightning sparks of brilliance. They weren't any less clever for their backseat relegation, what with Feferi's scope for peace and Roxy's inventions, they just weren't considered - yet.

Roxy and Nepeta both began to speak at the same moment, to their mutual amusement and Feferi's trickling giggle. Roxy made a human "go ahead" gesture, and Nepeta responded by lolling her head to the side, looking downward in a somewhat submissive posture. With comically widened eyes, Roxy waved both hands in another human gesture. Their escalating antics were broken by a stiff rap on the door, Nepeta's meowbeat reflexes sliding her into a crouched position. Feferi visibly straightened her face, pulling her hair over one shoulder to lessen its general disarray mid-rearrangement. Roxy stood and cautiously headed for the door.

"It's probably not anything important," the human said so as not to be heard through the door, but a note of concern undermined the words. In the whole time Nepeta had been on the ship, and the days before that as the trolls trickled in for their interstellar ride, no one had ever knocked on a main block door. There was pounding on ablution block openings, hollering through breathing tunnels and hallways at all hours, dramatic arrivals via teleport and various entrance portals. The denizens of the ship walked in on each other without regard to propriety, sometimes with hilarious consequences, occasionally garnered polite invitations, and constantly invented new grievances for their fellows. They did not knock, and they certainly did not knock like _that_ , a sober and informative series of taps on metal.

The hair on Nepeta's nape rose as Roxy crossed the block, and just before the door opened she felt a powerful wave of déjà vu. Something in her base instincts wailed unhelpfully, and Nepeta blinked, unsure what exactly she was being warned of - was opening the door the issue, or a remedy of something unrelated, or something else entirely? In a moment, she felt a dozen concepts she did not understand sweep through her mind: time constructs, the merging of binary stars, some human-sounding rapped lyrics, correlation and causation potentials. It felt like Time and tasted like Doom, but her Aspect was neither.

Nepeta blinked, and couldn't remember what she'd been thinking about. The block was unchanged, everything in its place as it had been a fractional moment before. The olive kitten shook her head to clear it, and so she missed the slumped figure as the door opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies on any confusion in this first chapter while I get my preferred tenses sorted out. The _Jane, Unlimited_ choose-your-own-adventure style ending shouldn't be a theme.
> 
> Happy 4/13 everyone!


	2. Blood, Water, and Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aradia foreshadows her own cause of insanity, and Feferi is a typical self-introspective Dersite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Can you tell I love how people/Dirk think?)

"The medical bay is the next right," Jane said as Roxy's door shrunk behind them, the memory of worried pink eyes still fresh in Feferi's head. Jane leaned heavily on Aradia, her other arm curled in an awkward position with still-bleeding gashes visible through the torn fabric of her long sleeves. When the pair materialized outside Roxy's door, Aradia had only said that she needed Feferi, and they would explain on the way. "The stairwell across the hall accesses the third floor." The human winced as one of the implements still stuck in Feferi's hair connected with her arm, and the troll princess quickly swept her unruly curls back over her shoulder. "There was an altercation downstairs."

"That's a very polite way of putting it," Aradia said wryly. "I think you get a pass on cultural sensitivity and political correctness for the day, Jane. That is to say, there was brawl in John's 'bathroom' five minutes ago, with some collateral destruction in the cargo hold."

"Oh shell no! Was it Eridan again?" Feferi exclaimed, outraged but unfor-tuna-tely not surprised. Her friends had been snipping at each other more than usual in the close living quarters, and the constant state of mild resentment was terribly embarrassing, diplomatically and socially. "He always hogs the water!"

"Him and everyone else in the block at the time, waiting. Everything just exploded at once, and it took Sollux and I both metaphysically holding everyone in check to stop it. He's alright, just nursing a headache." Aradia made a face, displeased at having to choose between her moirail and a longer term solution. "I came to take Jane to the human medicine department as soon those idiots came to their senses, and she suggested you might still be with Roxy."

Feferi felt herself flush a little - were her increased activities with Roxy such common knowledge? She hadn't seen Jane outside of a few communal meetings: discussing the flight plan, or various kitchen and mealtime services. Then again, all the trolls were notoriously up in each other's personal lives, and being in such close quarters would have been too much temptation for the more voyeuristic of their number.

("Vriska, for the love of anything even remotely holy in the Empire, your lusus - hell, even Terezi--"

"The court takes no issue with this."

"--whatever it takes for you to keep your brain out of other people's pans long enough to have a CIVIL CONVERSATION!!"

"Is Kaaarkat embarrassed about his paale association with a certain clown?")

The three of them paused outside a door marked with the aspect symbol of life. "Thank you for helping me here," Jane said, carefully disentangling herself from Aradia's supporting arm. "I hope you both have success with your negotiations."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all," the psychic assured her.

Feferi shot Aradia a concerned look as the door closed. "My thought was to ask the resident interspecies genius couple for a spare block, yes. Jade did remodel and expand it after their human wedding," her matesprit's moirail supplied.

"If I recall, that didn't work out so whale for Vriska and Terezi."

In as much as Kanaya's old pale crush on Vriska was common knowledge, it had been - apparently incorrectly - assumed that the cerulean could barter herself a slightly less crowded place to stay. The jadeblood had responded by slamming the block door in Vriska's shocked face, and sending a detailed list of how her and Terezi's living styles were completely incompatible with that of Rose and Kanaya. (Terezi's chalk-licking habits reacting negatively with any yarn in the vicinity were apparently number twenty-three after over a dozen grievances against Vriska's personality and habits. Delivered by a shame-faced John, the paper was noticeably written in both purple and jade ink.)

Aradia grinned, tapping the between-deck-lift with her telekinetic power. "It's a good thing, then, that neither of us are bluebloods with debatably sanitary living preferences. And Sollux would happily stay in the same technoblock for the rest of his life if he could." Aradia's eyebrows pinched in worry when she mentioned her moirail - no doubt not in the least strained by his use of psionic restraints and more than willing to stay awake for the next week if allowed - but Feferi also caught the softening of her faintly rust-ringed eyes.

"It's only for a codple more whelks," Feferi agreed as they stepped into the lift.

"And I'd much rather spend that time in the universe's smallest storage block than watching Eridan size you and Sollux up every time he passes." Aradia made a motion that might have been a suppressed shiver, and Feferi found herself touched by her friend's concern.

"That's really sweet of you, Aradia." Feferi put one arm over the other girl's shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Eridan's not as bad as he was after," she paused, a slight slip to not think the words _awful breakup_ "but I don't think he'd actually hurt me."

Aradia patted her arm in return, not looking convinced. "Better for all of us this way." Feferi nodded and retracted her arm as the lift door began to open, depositing the pair on the third and top floor of the Strilonde-human vessel.

Even though the two weren't directly quadranted, they both cared for Sollux's well-being in their own ways, and consequently had come to depend on each other more than most hatefriends would, especially in the regular troll sense of the term. It helped that both were oddly tactile trolls, and most of their early interactions consisted of tagteaming Sollux away from his work, and over to cuddle. Now the three-way filmnights were as much about Feferi and Aradia's friendship as for either of their quadrant relationships.

Back down the hall they went, only this time toward a certain jadeblood's shared blocks. Or, perhaps a certain human's shared blocks, since the space had been Rose's first before its co-ownership. Tyrian and rustblood found themselves in a quandary as they approached the door, the same one which had no doubt been on Jane's mind fifteen minutes before.

"Should we knock?" Feferi asked quietly.

"It does seem like a strange thing to do, in light of the ship's occupants - and it wouldn't do to sound foreboding." They both glanced around the door frame, and the wired panel. "Then again, it's not like anybody set up a hivebell."

The trolls looked at each other. Feferi swatted her hair back again.

"We could wait a few minutes," Aradia said with a shrug.

Feferi watched the empty hall from the corner of her eye, but at the moment no one else was around. As for the other occupants of the floor, Jane was definitely elsewhere, Roxy had confirmed Dirk to be a veritable hermit at the moment, and John might have called in his space-bending cousin for troll-wrangling backup. Which left Rose and Kanaya themselves. Was it worse to return to your block to discover two visitors reclining outside the door, or to go to leave and find two people lounging around outside? Aradia hesitantly stretched one arm out to knock.

Feferi was prevented from deciding on a definitive answer as the door opened before them suddenly, Aradia's fist left hanging halfway from where the metal had been.

"--about that, dear," Rose's voice finished.

"Oh!" Kanaya exclaimed, abruptly shifting her weight back onto her other foot. Graceful as she was, the jadeblood didn't so much as sway in the process.

"I'm afraid I was just about to investigate what has been happening below." Kanaya's gaze shifted from Feferi's bitten lip to Aradia's worried expression. "But if you've come on an urgent matter, I would of course be willing to help however I can."

Feferi smiled. "Thank you, Kanaya."

"Is that our dear Feferi and Aradia?" Rose's tone indicated that she knew very well who was at the door, despite being in a different block.

"Indeed it is," Kanaya returned, unphased by her matesprit/wife. "Why don't you come in? We have tea, if you like."

"That sounds pleasant," Aradia accepted as Kanaya showed them to a tasteful arrangement of seats.

Feferi sat, sinking into the comfortable cushion, and watched as her jadeblood friend prepared three cups of steaming tea. It felt at once more and less like an official meeting this way, having something warm to hold and sip in awkward pauses. Feferi politely declined the offered sugar, her palate more used to the salt and brine of the sea. (Then again, Eridan had been known to eat cake like it was going out of style when they were together, something that had always been a cause of concern on Feferi's part. She shoved the clinging thought out of her mind; she'd been over her feelings many times, both before and after their breakup, but it wasn't for lack of trying that old memories came back to haunt her.)

"I do not think it would be out of line to suggest that we skip the pleasantries for a more direct approach." Kanaya swirled her sipping utensil in her cup to spread the cream before glances across at the other trolls. "Am I correct in assuming that your appearance at my door, pleasant as it is, is connected to recent events aboard the ship?"

"Right on point, as usual," Aradia said, leaning forward to deposit her spoon back on the table. Carefully cradling her own burning porcelain dish, Feferi realized that the tea was likely lukewarm at best for the rustblood. "The er, _event_ downstairs, which I'm sure you've heard quite a bit about already, had some collateral damage associated."

Kanaya resettled herself, no doubt disguising a sigh. "And we all know that has not been the first such of its nature, nor is it likely to be the last. Things do seem a bit tight, with seven trolls in the hold."

"Whale actkrilly it's less aboat the space than the people - Nepeta and Equius' departure didn't change much, since they're both quiet anyway, but everyone keeps stepping on everyone else's last toes!" This wasn't exactly true, as none of the trolls could in good faith be called _quiet_ , but it was more tactful than saying _less obtrusive_ , whether or not others in the rooms were in agreement.

"Oh dear." Now Kanaya did sigh, sounding very concerned through her tone of polite curiosity. "I've heard there's been some tensions between certain mutual acquaintances of ours," in retrospect, Kanaya probably felt about Vriska how Feferi was beginning to feel about Eridan, "but I admit I assumed it was their usual banter." Even after _that_ ill-advised pitch relationship had ended, the two involved parties still bickered and taunted each other at any given opportunity.

Aradia exchanged a look with Feferi of the shall-you-or-shall-I variety. Feferi decided she would let Aradia tackle this particular hoofbeast, and attempted to sip her tea without scalding her entire digestive tract.

"He's been worse than usual, but Terezi has managed to orchestrate the beginning of an uncivil clade war, and _that_ moirallegiance is quick on the uptake of any sniff of trouble." Kanaya's expression darkened even without the mention of the cerulean's name. "And with Karkat still attending to diplomatic matters, there's hardly a scrap of self-restraint to be passed around! To call things tense would be a dangerous understatement."

Karkat's yelling didn't actually do as much as he would have no doubt liked, but the other eleven had always felt a shade more protective of the shouty troll who cared far too much, and tended to not be as violent around him as they might've. Gamzee's unrestrained presence tended to function effectively as well, but not even Vriska discussed the threat of Karkat's moirail where she might be heard. The many hidden thoughts on the matter had begun to resurface while Karkat, and those who went with him, had been away for so long, but at least no rash action had been taken. (Feferi did wonder if Karkat felt the danger, and if he had an ulterior motive besides catching up on jamming with his palemate for having the purpleblood stay in his and the Strider boy's block.)

And as usual, no one was quite sure what to do with Tavros.

"Seaing as the situation as turned for the worse, we were hoping you - and your matesprit - would be aminnowable to taking in a couple of hive guests. Just until everyone calms down," Feferi summarized.

The jadeblood leaned against the back of her seat, delicately sipping her tea with a pensive expression.

"In as much as we can hope for that to be the case, I suspect tensions will remain high until our ship reaches its destination. While I would like to provide assistance, and am quite sure of Rose's willingness in this experiment, I cannot be sure that similar tensions would not follow the three of you - assuming that Sollux would be joining us as well?" She waited for a nod of assent from Aradia before continuing, "As such, I'm afraid I must ask whether this request is coming from my dear friends, or from the )(eiress."

An electric feeling ran through Feferi's electrosensitive extremities at Kanaya's canted use of her proper title. Feferi knew that, with a simple answer, she, Aradia, and Sollux could abscond without further debate; at the same time, she loathed pulling rank on her friends apart from when it was absolutely necessary. And right now, though convenient, was not.

"This is a request from a frond, as it should be. Aradia and I understood when we came that you would have every right to refuse, and whatever your decision, we greatly appreseate your help."

The faint line between Kanaya's eyebrows cleared, though Feferi had not noticed its formation. Her next breath was a little deeper, sensing a passing of the confirmation her friend had actually been asking for.

"Then, I believe we are agreed on the matter. How soon are you expecting to have your possessions together?"

"We can be ready by the end of the day, if that's alright. I'd say the hardest part would be having a turn on the elevator to bring up the cots, but it shouldn't be a problem to levitate them up the stairs." Aradia's smile the least strained Feferi had seen since they'd woken.

Kanaya's founded hesitance about five people, of two separate quadrant chains, being in closer proximity made Feferi's mind whir for what easing of the change she could offer. "And we can continue to utilize John's ablution clamber."

"That would rather defeat the point, wouldn't it?" Kanaya said with a chuckle.

Feferi returned her cup to its accompanying plate with a small _tink_. She met Aradia's rustening gaze out of the corner of her eye.

"I ashore you that the three of us will provide as little bother as possible," Aradia coughed lightly at her slip. "And Sollux in particular will not be leaving the block for some time."

Feferi felt herself blush lightly at the implication and saw the dusting of green on Kanaya's cheeks as well. She appreciated the heads up, though, and would make herself appropriately scarce while Aradia employed her moirail privileges. The goldblood was a mess at the best of times and deserved all of Aradia's care and pity. Perhaps Kanaya and Rose's ablution trap was the kind that could be filled like a pool - Feferi hadn't been submerged in water since before she'd taken the Alternian transport to rendezvous with the humans' ship, and her fins were becoming rather dry.

"There are three open rooms to choose from, thanks to Jade's extraordinary abilities. The extended closet may be tight for all of you, but either of the offices should suffice." Kanaya stood, gathering the tea paraphernalia with practiced efficiency. "Why don't you follow me?"

* * *

Dirk had turned the music off hours ago and yet he could _feel_ the weight of the static in his ears, floating hums of machinery banging on the backs of his eyes with the force of a sledgehammer. He could hardly stand to read Hal's onscreen replies anymore through the burning of his retinas, even with the brightness nearly all the way down and the lights practically off. He should really stop. He wasn't getting anything done like this - hadn't been for longer than he'd care to admit - but he couldn't allow himself to stop now. Through sheer force of stubbornness Dirk had fought himself this far and he'd be damned if he wasn't obstinate enough to continue doing so.

Pulling his head up and suppressing a groan, Dirk squinted at Hal's latest revision and instead found one of the AI's outer cams displayed. "You already showed me the troll thing. I get it, alright. Interspecies contact is breaking down, someone who isn't as overly accommodating as John needs to get their ass in gear and have a diplomatically firm discussion with the fish guy and insane girls. It's not going to be me, and it's sure as hell not going to be you, so I don't see why you're getting yourself in such a tizzy when there's a nigh infinite number of other things you can be focusing your processing on. Have you _seen_ the state of this room?"

He grunted, stopping just short of a full-out complaint spiel. Because nobody wanted to hear his endless cycle of self-deprecation, least of all the program unfortunate enough to share the trait.

"First of all, I have an equally absurd amount of focus, thanks to you. Dirk. Secondly, at risk of being confused with your family's unfortunate affinity to broken records, the physical state of this room is entirely your jurisdiction to jack up as you see fit," Hal replied acidly. Or typed, but it was all the same, because Dirk knew what he meant.

"And finally, before that entirely inaccurate monologue, I was endeavoring to be the helpful PC everyone invariably regards me as, and informing you of the visitor at your door. Seriously, did you even think? Careful, your grasp on higher forms of intellectual expression like small talk is slipping, Dirk."

Dirk opened his mouth for his similarly scathing rebuttal, but found himself accosted by a wave of foreign emotion. The impression of worry and determination was hard to process in Dirk's current state - fine, he was a _little_ rundown, alright? - and separate from his own. Which was patently ridiculous, inconceivable even, that Dirk Strider was not successfully keeping his emotions in check at all times.

For a moment he was confused - When had Dirk let his control unravel? - but immediately answered the thoughtless query with a hand to his face. Probably sometime in the last week of ignoring any and all other living beings on his family's ship. His emotional shielding was a byproduct of his abilities, necessary for dignified interaction with anything more complex than sparrow, and though Dirk was used to the always-there undercurrent of strain, there wasn't any point in splitting his overtaxed focus any more than he had to when working alone.

Hal wasn't much of a bother to Dirk's empathic sense, consisting basely of ones and zeros. But now that the approaching flurry of feeling had been pointed out, Dirk found himself fixated on it without much choice in the matter. Worse, he recognized that strain of headstrong, hopeful determination as belonging to the largest living threat to his productivity.

Footsteps were audible now as Dirk's least wanted visitor approached the door and then just . . stopped. Dirk rested his chin on his hands again, watching the camera as he tamped down on his Heart connection.

"Look, everyone's getting pretty worried. You haven't shown up for breakfast in days." The voice was muffled through the door.

Dirk stayed silent, willing him to reach frustration with talking to a wall and leave. But of course a few minutes later he tried again.

"Dirk, c'mon, I know you're in there. There is literally no where else you _could_ be. You're not subtle when you go into hyperfocus mode." Dirk's heart absolutely did not react when he heard his name said with those familiar inflections. At least Hal's cameras were hidden, and he wouldn't risk being swayed by green eyes.

The traitorous hunk of muscle in his chest disagreed; threat assessments were lower than they'd ever been before, and in fact, the mutinying crew was dialing up on the disappointment just to be sure. And now the Dave part of Dirk's head was surfacing in typical Strider-Lalonde style when faced with genuine interactions and sleep loss.

"You're not just going to let him standing there." It wasn't a question, even by passive-aggressive AI standards. "He's not leaving this time."

Dirk glared at the screen. "He always does eventually," he mouthed back. Hal had night vision cameras; he could afford to put them to use every once in a while.

"We both know that's not what you want. Even you aren't deluded enough to be oblivious." Hal paused like the dramatic toddler he was, because those few seconds were ages in digital time. "In regards to others, sure, but rarely yourself."

He didn't deign to respond to that. Hal knew perfectly well why Dirk shouldn't be allowed to follow through with his emotional impulses. Jake apparently choosing to ignore his controlling tendencies didn't erase the issue, and there was no way in hell Dirk was risking the (doubtlessly) strained friendship they had on a whim.

Even if that whim had obstinately persisted for years, feeding on the cracks in Dirk's self-control. Damn thing was more likely to survive ecological disaster and nuclear fallout than the cockroaches; it'd evolved past the point of being strifable into a genetically modified weapon of mass destruction raised on the lush conditions inside Dirk's mind. . . Where was this even going?

"So shall I let him in?" Hal flashed, too sure of himself for his own good.

Dirk scoffed. "What did I _just_ say, Hal?"

. . Oh hell no. Hal's unblinking light stared back impassively, more self-satisfied than a seventeen foot python that had escaped the henhouse to find itself living in the Everglades.

"Dirk!" Jake called, probably with his ear pressed to the door like the flagrant idiot he was, unconcerned with his own safety.

Hal flashed two symbols with his lights, a semicolon and a closed parenthesis, in a newly revealed trick and then unlocked the door with a purposefully audible sound. He did have the basic level of decency to minimize the chat window first.

Jake breezed in less than a second later, hands on his hips and looking just like his cousin before she started throwing spoons. He ground to a halt right after, seeing the step up to the rest of Dirk's space and remembering with an exasperated (but not aggravated; maybe even akin to fond, if Dirk was being generous) frown to take his shoes off. The reminder wasn't in time to keep Jake from having to check his stride and hop around for a moment to switch from his regular footwear to the pair of sandals sitting above the entranceway floor, though, and Dirk couldn't help but smirk at the sight, touched by the consideration despite himself.

As soon as Jake had on appropriate, if flopping half-on, zōris he was marching over to Dirk's work area. "Now listen here, my good fellow, because whether or not you believe your personal well-being is expendable at the drop of a hat, there are those of us who do not and will not stand for it! Even your computerized semi-self has more sense than you!"

"I'm rather insulted by that comparison," Hal typed on a blank chat. "Between the two of us, your logic is negligible at best."

Dirk glared at his fronting AI's camera. If he'd told Jake specifically that Dirk wasn't deserving of credit for unlocking the doors, what else might he have said? The AI was more than capable of carrying on conversations with everyone on board at the same time, while sorting visuals and doing his own projects on the side with RAM to spare. Then again, he could have been running the standard aggressive "Open the pod bay doors, Hal" denial routine and Dirk was being a paranoid, sleep-deprived human being. Consistency.

"Don't get too high on your horse there, English. Every time you turn around you're jumping into the line of fire."

Jake twitched, eyes roaming over the walls and away from Dirk's. For some reason the familiar banter just worsened Dirk's mood. He was too tired to have the patience to deal with this.

"Look, I'm fine. Aren't there other alienating bastards on this ship for you to wrangle?" Dirk pressed his thumbs into the veins on his forehead.

It didn't dull the throbbing, but it gave him something to do besides be hyperaware of his shades sitting a few feet away. Narrowing his eyes to slits when the door opened hadn't kept him from being blinded by the light and its accompanying halos. Would he come off as too standoffish if he reached for them now? Why did he care?

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you heard about that," Jake chuckled, but it sounded strained. "John was able to handle it right quick, all things considered."

Thanks to his concentrated view of the floor, Dirk saw Jake's feet moving hesitantly closer. His faint but surging empathy connection informed him that Jake was feeling more sure of his bargaining power than he let on, even if it was watered down with . . other things.

Jake sighed. "You're obviously not fine, Dirk. You're rubbing your forehead like you're trying to break it, you haven't looked at me once since I came in, and for all that you're wearing those god-awful shop clothes, I'd wager you haven't been working on anything in quite some time even before I showed up."

Was he really that obvious? Dirk forced himself to look up at Jake, resisting the urge to squint.

"Don't diss the grease stains, man. Those are marks of productivity and pride. Yeah, yeah, not the point," he added before Jake could point it out himself.

The monitor flickered red and against his better judgment, Dirk glanced over at it. "Your pupils dilate beyond your average 6.3 mm maintained in lowlight conditions when you look at Jake. Need I spell out the science of human physical attraction to you at this point in our lives?"

Definitely a mistake. "Also not the point," Dirk growled at him. "Quit trying to railroad me."

It wasn't like he could aggressively narrate the differences between passing attraction and scientifically imprecise measures of trust when the subject of discussion was standing _right there_. Besides, it was about as dark as it could get in the room without Dirk abandoning lighting altogether for the darkness of space. He had rights to plausible deniability.

"Hal?" Jake asked rhetorically. "What did he say?"

"Doesn't matter, just his usual harping and griping on anything he wants to stick his prying, gossipy sensors into." Dirk clenched his hands together to keep from slamming the laptop lid shut. There were about a hundred electronics for Hal to choose to display his input onto, and two of the other computers were readily within Jake's line of sight. "And yes, I know _exactly_ where that comes from, _Hal_."

"I really think you need a break. You've run yourself ragged." Jake sounded concerned approaching on distressed now.

Dirk flung his hands out in exasperation. Hoping he sounded commanding more than pleading he retorted, "Then convince me!"

The other man reached out an hand towards his arm on autopilot, then stopped and let the appendage hover. Dirk felt his heart shiver like it was the Grinch's shriveled up blood pusher faced with finding a part of christmas he didn't absolutely loathe. Jake was one of his oldest friends, given of course that all his oldest friends were basically his only friends and currently together on this ship. He had no hesitation with handing out thorough backslaps and enthusiastic handshakes, even if he wasn't at John-Roxy-Jade levels of abrasive affection. His uncertainty on whether he was allowed to touch Dirk or not stung more than it should have.

Or maybe it was the thought that Dirk had sealed himself off so completely was what stung, and it took a crisis of conscience for him to realize how poorly he'd been acting. Maybe it was the right amount of sting, the right kind of pain for him to experience right now. He wouldn't mind touching Jake, but he didn't know how to say or signal that in a normal manner, and he wasn't sure he could trust himself if he did.

"How long has it been since you were actually productive? Let's start with that."

Dirk thought, actually considered it. "Since my last cup of bean swill wore off a while ago."

"Three hours and fourteen minutes," Hal supplied helpfully.

"I said productive, not fiddling." Jake's face was struggling not to be amused. "Since the last time you ate?"

"And I suppose you'll want to differentiate between chips and coffee and a meal with more than two of the food groups, will you?" The hidden and abused part of Dirk's mind that formed his self-preservation instinct was creeping back out into the light now, holding a blood-splattered white flag and ready to leap in and post it as soon as Dirk acquiesced. The 'out to lunch' sign wasn't fooling anyone now, no sirree.

"And?" He was being far too patient with this whole thing. And his voice was lovely.

"And . . I should join the rest of you for some good ol' fashioned amical bonding time, irregardless of whether I'll be getting torn a new one when I show up."

Jake exhaled but watched him steadily, green eyes x-raying through his exhausted skull. "Mate, have you slept in the last fifty hours? Or even the last seventy?"

He opened his mouth on autopilot to retort that _yes_ , he absolutely _had_ , but a still-rational part of his brain made him cast his gaze toward one of Hal's more obvious cameras for a second opinion. Dirk micro-grimaced at the red light waiting there for him, or - crap, was it two?

Leaning back in as graceful a defeat as he could manage with his head on fire, Dirk ground the heel of one hand into his eyesocket, half to clear his vision, half to focus on something besides his brewing migraine. "Probably not," he muttered.

"The hair gel gives it away, you know," Jake chuckled, still managing to appear sympathetic when Dirk raised his face to half-heartedly glare at him. "C'mon, you know I won't try to Roxy you into sleeping a full cycle. All I ask is you take a break, with your eyelids closed, for as long as you can possibly stand it. And deep in that complicated brain of yours, I think you know you need it, too."

Dirk only grunted in reply to that presumption, but he did flick out a hand for Hal to send the computer systems into rest mode - besides his own, of course. "Fine. But only a few hours. If I find out it's been longer, Jane is never seeing her sedatives again."

His head throbbed as he stood up, and his vision clouded gray from the sudden change in position. How long had it been since he'd moved from the chair at all? Too long, certainly, from the way he had to shoot out a hand to rest on the desk as his entire cranial unit swayed. When Dirk's vision cleared, he realized Jake had an arm on his shoulder, and it was definitely only his mortifying lack of balance that had him leaning in Jake's direction. Distantly, Dirk wondered how quickly he would spin off onto the floor if he tried to flashstep.

Jake kept his hand in place, albeit lightly, as Dirk make his way over to the couch on the other side of the room, slippers scuffing on the wood floor to avoid tripping on the piles of stuff. He lifted off the more obtrusive items, freeing the cushions enough to sit down and check for nails just in case. Dirk couldn't remember the last time he'd had anything on the furniture besides his projects. There was a communal lounge for movies, game nights, and the like whenever the ship's denizens felt the urge, and Dirk didn't exactly have people into his shipboard room on the regular. Being horizontal wasn't an overly more pleasant experience than sitting up, though he was less likely to have a crick in his neck this way. Dirk shifted his feet under something that leaned over the other end of the couch.

"Alright," Jake cleared his throat. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Wait- no. Jake's voice was strangely soothing to his burnt-out brain, and between the headache and his spinning thoughts, Dirk knew that he'd be lying awake for hours despite his bone-deep exhaustion. And now that he'd been convinced into it, sleep suddenly didn't seem like such a bad thing, so maybe just this once--

"Could you stay, actually?" Dirk's voice was quieter than he'd been aiming for, hesitant and . . something else he wasn't quite loathe enough to place at the moment. "You don't have to do anything, just sit and talk."

With only the hum of electronics in the room, the returning pad of Jake's socked feet was almost loud. "Talk?"

"Just, speak at me. I'd give you a book, but." Dirk shrugged, wishing for the first time he had more scintillating literature than engineering and electronics manuals. He did have manga, stored safely out of sight of his prying siblings, but those were about seventy percent imagery and another fifteen percent onomatopoeia.

And Dirk was definitely not handing over his own full-length productions of blood, sweat, and ironic tears to an audience that couldn't appreciate such masterwork; even Dave would have had something to say about the sheer amount of effort he'd put into his drawings and storyline, and would no doubt have an entire rambling argument to justify this treason to the almighty Society of Dedicated Appreciation of the Terrible and Eternal Ironies (And The Preservation Thereof), never mind that the tendering of Dirk's resignation would leave half the committee seats unfilled. This in itself made perfect sense, because the absolute heathens known as the rest of the Strider-Lalonde family and associated close friends couldn't have pieced together a working finger joint with their combined respect for the Highest and Most Perfect Art. Although, Rose and Roxy, and occasionally John, had been known to participate wholeheartedly in ironic activities during fits of theatrical double-irony, for the sole and express purpose of violating (and yet sustaining) the theatrical tradi--

And, oh, English was being awfully silent for a man that regaled inanimate objects with his tales. Dirk opened his eyes, the dim lighting not trying as hard to stab his retinas, to find Jake eyeing him quizzically as though he was a puzzle that never had enough pieces, and the empty spots had a tendency to shift around. Somehow, all the classifying and monologuing in Dirk's brain ground to a halt at the least opportune moment, and he was left to choose which strains of the truth to thread through his tongue.

" . . Listening to your voice is comf-nice." He hoped Jake's unreliable obliviousness wouldn't catch his slip - Dirk Strider never slipped when he spoke, that was preposterous -, and for good measure added, "It's easier to not be conscious when I'm not focusing on than the radiating pain in my skull."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, too, because Jake's face softened immediately and Dirk held out no hope that Hal's night vision couldn't make out the slight reddarkening of Dirk's face. Future Dirk was going to have some choice words on the matter.

Jake, it seemed, had the common sense not to try addressing what Dirk really meant with a twenty-foot pole. "Always good to be reminded of one's soporific talents," he said cheerfully, and didn't even sound wry when he added, "I'm sure I can fashion a bangeroo double handed compliment out of that somehow."

Dirk snorted lightly at that, because _Jake_. The man was worse with his mixed idioms than Dave was with crossing up metaphors, and entirely unconcerned as he continually sent the trolls into loops of confusion and rage.

There was a split second in which Dirk was almost certain that Jake was about to perch his shorts on the side of Dirk's sofa, and Dirk felt himself tense up automatically. Then Jake was dragging over his work chair, and Dirk felt a conflicting shadow of relief and disappointment. Naturally, he had to snark back as Jake settled himself in the comfortable swivel chair. "Stealing my one of a kind seating project?"

Jake frowned back. "There's not exactly a plethora of clean surfaces to pick from, Dirk. Your feet are under an actual robot body."

"The wires are excellent toe warmers," Dirk deadpanned. "And it's a chassis, for an a-"

He lost track of his technical correction, and experienced a brief derailment of his train of thought as a hand gently wove through his hair. The movement was impeded by the crackling of Dirk's three day old hair gel, but it still felt so calming, and -- you know what, he wasn't going to finish that thought, he had absolutely no legal binding to do so. Instead, Dirk closed his eyes to properly appreciate the sensation, and maybe in the lesser recesses of his mind, savor the relaxing tingling around his scalp. He exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulder and temples ebb away, and passively listened as Jake started to speak.

"Well, I suppose you've probably heard everyone's side by now, but there was that time the medical alchemiter broke and Jane insisted I try and fix it, because you and Jade were too busy dealing with the biennial star drive adjustments, and Rose was convincing your mother to not come visit for at least a week - phooey, I might as well start at the beginning, shan't I."

And somewhere between John and Dave's shower-war pranks and the medbay light bulbs vomiting machine oil, Dirk's thoughts turned into leaves and floated away like so many pieces of wax paper. He might almost have called the feeling contentment, if he were foolish enough to ignore the pressing duties when he awoke, and the intrinsic parts of himself that railed against comfort and refused to accept the known universe as it was.

Most people, though, alien and human alike, would have called it satisfaction - the kind only found by someone who experienced as much as he could of everything deemed important, especially if it was painful (until eventually, by nature of experiencing it so much, it ceased to be so), and couldn't truly rest if it killed him. The kind known by someone who experienced no emotion by half-measures regardless of how well he suppressed them, and only knew peace of the soul as the moments of quiet between the storms inside his head. Because Dirk Strider was always his own worst enemy, and he knew it better than anyone should have to; but sometimes his nemesis stopped circling long enough to wonder what it would be like to stop, and from these moments he drew his wearied, battered, and most often self-ridiculed hope for change.  
If not better, then at least a little different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Dirk's ironic society for irony (and the preservation thereof) eventually came under fire by an anonymous member and was taken to court for violated copyright laws. Justice Pyrope declared mistrial, but was found to be in possession of ironic artifacts herself and indicted for bribery and legal bias. Unfortunately, neither of these historic cases were ever settled, due to a mysterious loss of all related evidence and a few memories, which were found to be irrevocably replaced by gifs of a terribly drawn cartoon figure falling down endless stairs. Precedent now dictates at least one exorcist remain with at-risk evidence at all times, to prevent a future tragedy.
> 
> Wow, I did Not expect 32 hits in less than four days on this fic. Maybe it's a 4/13 thing.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos!


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